El Tigre
by WitchwithKids
Summary: Commander Shepard just wanted what was best for her kid sister. But when James Vega starts showing an interest in the blonde biotic, is keeping them apart really the best option? A Shep-sibs story. Some FemShep/Garrus, mostly FemShep(sister)/Vega. Some AU, follows ME3 plotlines. M for language & adult relationships.
1. Lost & Found

**Chapter One: Lost & Found**

It had been a wild 48 hours. First Earth, then Mars, followed up by the Council's refusal to help the human home world. _Well, not a __**complete**__ refusal_, James thought as he watched Commander Shepard disappear into the elevator following their sparring match in the shuttle bay. At least the Turian Counselor had given them an opening.

"Do you have a preference in your accommodations, Lieutenant Vega?" EDI's crisp voice from his omni-tool startled James out of whatever thought he would have had next.

"Come again?" he replied, hoping the AI would elaborate.

"As a member of Commander Shepard's shore team, you now have the option of choosing one of the four private rooms separate from crew quarters. There are two near the main battery, and two on this level. Due to the nature of some missions, she thought it best to be sure that her companions have a place they can retreat to if needed. Though you may have to share quarters should the team get too large or if the Normandy plays host to any foreign dignitaries."

_Private quarters for the away team? Could I be so lucky? I haven't had a room to myself since...ever._ As a child, James had always shared a room with his cousins. And the military? _No privacy in the Marines unless you get a hotel on shore leave. _"Down here is fine," he told the AI.

"Noted," she replied. "I've coded you to the port-side room. We will be docked for six more hours if there are any personal effects you need to acquire prior to our departure for Palaven. Welcome to the Normandy, Lieutenant."

He was still standing in the middle of the shuttle bay when his omni-tool went silent, looking at the makeshift weight room he had camped out in since leaving Earth. A small duffel with the most basic personal provisions that Cortez had gotten for him after docking was stashed under the desk, but the only thing he had brought with him from the home world were the clothes he had on and his dog tags. There hadn't been much time to grab his gear before Alenko rushed him to the Normandy as their planet fell under the shadow of the Reapers.

Kaidan Alenko. He had been on Shepard's first team three years ago. _No, almost four now since the SR-1 team found the Prothean beacon_, he reminded himself. Liara T'Soni. Garrus Vakarian. Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. James mentally filed through the names as he grabbed his gear and stalked towards his room. **HIS** room. On the Normandy. With Commander Heather Shepard.

God. Shepard. He had gotten to know her fairly well since Anderson had appointed him as her guardian after the Alliance grounded her in order to keep the Batarians at bay. She was just a soldier. Just a woman. She liked to read, and talk about her adventures chasing Saren across the galaxy. But here on the Normandy? All business. She loved her job. Loved her crew. And now James was a part of it.

The door to his quarters hissed open in tune with the shiver that had crept up his spine.

* * *

Shepard.

Her name warmed his blood as no other thing had been able to in the past two days. It had passed through the mouths of the men at the base until it reached his ears, stopping Garrus Vakarian in his tracks. Menae had been hell. Palaven had been worse. But Shepard was here. Her name gave him hope, and his mandibles twitched as he blocked out all other sounds just to catch a trace of her voice on the wind.

He had ached without her the past few months, but Garrus knew there had been no way to help her once she was in Alliance hands. As they had when the SR-1 had fallen, her crew went their separate ways, only this time they refused to be silenced. They all knew what was coming, and all their work against the Collectors would've gone to waste if they hadn't started mobilizing. Even independently, they were a team with a common goal. A common enemy. And Shepard was their bond.

"She just got back from getting the comm tower back up," someone said in passing. "Heading in to talk to the General."

Garrus nodded his thanks, then made his way to General Corinthus' command center. He heard her first, but as he cleared the corner of the shelter, she came into view. Her attention was on the turian general clad in black armor, and her focus was clear. She needed the primarch, whomever that happened to be now.

"I'm on it, Shepard," he heard himself say as he climbed the ramp and shouldered his rifle. Corinthus may have said something, but Garrus didn't hear it. His eyes were full of the human woman who had dominated his dreams, and the sound of his name on her lips nearly undid him.

Her expression was hard. Professional. As it always had been, since the fate of the galaxy seemed to fall on her shoulders with peculiar regularity. But the waver in her voice when she thought he had been on Palaven...he didn't miss it. Shepard had extended her hand in greeting, but when Garrus took it, he covered it between both of his.

"I'm hard to kill."

Her brown eyes met his blue for only a moment, but everything that she couldn't say was there. Not the cold rejection he had half-expected after being grounded for six months among her own kind. Relief mixed with concern, and a tiny spark of desire before she shut it down to face her squad. And that tiny caress of her finger against his palm as he released her hand? It was all he could do to squeak out an acknowledgment to the Lieutenant she had just introduced.

_Spirits_, Garrus prayed. _**Please** put me back on that ship. I don't know how long I can go without touching her again._

* * *

Lieutenant James Vega had never seen a more perfect pair than Shepard and Vakarian. He was in awe of how well they meshed their abilities on the battlefield, even after having been separated for months. How they could anticipate each others moves without saying a word. The playful headcount game they engaged in.

And the looks they gave each other. Shepard's mask of calm professionalism had slipped, ever so slightly, when Garrus met them at the general's command center. Alenko and T'Soni hadn't gotten that look. But they hadn't taken her hands the way Vakarian had, either.

It made sense, James thought as he collapsed on the bed hours later back on the Normandy. The tough, bad ass commander and the tough, bad ass turian. She had never struck him as the type to attach herself to a soft, romantic type, and she was so far out of **his** league that he had never even considered any sort of liaison. Commander, fellow soldier, possibly even friend, but nothing about the way she acted around James signaled that she was "available" in any way. And now it was pretty clear **why**.

It hadn't stopped him from flirting with her. Shepard was still a beautiful, intriguing woman, and he had the feeling that his teasing had helped break some of the tension she somehow refused to let go of. James had learned her boundaries early on, careful to test them, but never push them. And she always gave as good as she got, although she had yet to make him blush. There wasn't a woman in the universe, outside his family of course, who had been able to get that reaction from him.

"Dios mi," James sighed, kicking his boots off and rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. His family. They were on Earth somewhere. Well, most of them. Tony, his oldest cousin, was somewhere with Admiral Hackett's fleet, along with his uncle. But everyone else was scattered. Daniel had been in LA with his wife and kids. Little Marie was off at college. Only Mama and Abuela would've been back at the old home in Prescott. James knew to expect the worst, but it was the hope that he could see them all alive again that kept him motivated to help Shepard.

* * *

Commander Heather Shepard found James laying prone on his bed, seemingly still asleep. His feet dangled off the edge, hands tucked behind his head, eyes closed and breathing slow and steady. She cleared her throat, softly, although how he'd hear that and not the hiss of his door as she had come in didn't seem to matter.

"I'm awake, Lola. EDI warned me you were coming down."

"Were you able to get any sleep?" she asked, knowing it had been less than four hours since they left Menae. She hated having to get him up, but when it came down to it, James was still more well rested than Garrus.

"A bit. You?" His eyes were open now, watching her, a mischievous smile dancing in them that didn't show on his face. Somehow, he knew. The corner of her mouth twitched up as she recalled how Garrus had fallen into bed fully-clothed and exhausted. He even slept through EDI's announcement that Anderson had raised her on the vid-com.

"A bit." Let James make of that what he will. "You up for a quick run with me and Liara?"

"Another Vega sandwich with my two favorite ladies? How can I refuse?"

She grinned at his reference to the team. It was the same phrase he had used before landing on the turian moon, and had brought a blush to Liara's cheeks. James was smart enough to tone it down with the asari scientist after that, but Heather was glad that he wasn't holding back with her just because he knew about Garrus. She'd never sensed a genuine romantic interest, and it was good to have someone she could trade quips with.

"Gear up, then. We're making a trip to Grissom Academy for Anderson. ETA thirty minutes."

"You got it, Lola."

* * *

_**A/N: Thank you so much for taking a chance on this little story. I know that Mass Effect has an incredible fan following, and that there are MANY many stories posted in the past year that have given love to our un-romancable Marine. I truly love the FemShep-Garrus pairing, and wanted to make sure that Vega could have a story of his own without compromising one of my favorite couples in the process. Chapter Two will introduce the female lead, and should be up within the next 5-10 days. After that, postings will be every 3-4 weeks since I am also working on 3 other fanfictions, including an epic Mass Effect saga that will begin to show up on the site late Spring – early Summer.**_


	2. Family Reunion

**Chapter Two: Family Reunion**

The Normandy had been crawling with new faces since the side-trip to Grissom the day before. Garrus sat in the mess next to Jack, a welcome sight in all the chaos, watching as the kids mingled with the crew. They'd be docking soon, sending the students back to the Citadel with the first available Alliance ship.

"Wish you could stay," he mentioned casually.

"Me, too," Jack replied with a sigh. "But these kids. They need me more than the Normandy does. Can't let some Alliance brass go bossing them around. That's **my** job." She smiled as she said it, and there was a touch of pride in her voice. Garrus was happy for her. Jack had finally found a purpose, and she was thriving in it.

"You learned from the best."

"We **all** did, Mr. Reaper Specialist Vakarian. Some learned a bit more than others, though." She winked, knowing that anyone around them wouldn't pick up on her knowledge of his relationship with Shepard. "But don't worry too much. I won't stay, but I suggested someone else who can. One of the other instructors that Sanders ran into on her way to the shuttles while we were busting ass through the atrium."

"Commander Shepard is currently speaking with Katherine, Jack," EDI interrupted. "It does not seem to be going well."

"That's because Kat wanted to quietly slip under Shepard's radar," the tattooed biotic muttered, sliding her chair away from the table.

"Kat?" There was only one person by that name that Heather had ever mentioned, and Garrus was positive that it had been in the strictest of confidences. "How do you know..."

"Because she's a dead ringer for the commander. I'm crazy, not stupid." Garrus blinked in surprise, stunned into silence for a brief moment as Jack began walking away from the table. Finally, she looked over her shoulder and beckoned, "Come on. This is one family reunion we don't want to miss."

* * *

The shuttle bay was alive with the blue haze of biotic energy. The two women facing off had drawn a small crowd, and it was no surprise when James eventually saw Garrus slide up to him with the frighteningly attractive Jack at his side. This wasn't like the sparring match they'd had after Mars. Whomever Shepard was fighting with, it was personal.

Old enemies? No. They weren't trying to kill each other. The way they danced around the open area of the bay hinted at familiarity. They were of similar height and build, and their biotic abilities seemed to be evenly matched as well. But where Shepard had the nearly mechanical combat moves of a soldier, the newcomer flowed with the grace of a skilled martial artist.

"Four years, Heather. Four years that I've had to hide under the grid because your face has been plastered on every vid in the galaxy." The blonde emphasized the statement with a ball of force aimed at the Commander, who absorbed it into her barrier. "I couldn't even go to your funeral. Had to visit an **empty** grave in Arlington National to pay my respects."

The words hurt Shepard more than the physical impact. This was someone she cared about. She gulped in a breath of air, closing distance, which she had been reluctant to do until now. Her mouth moved, but the only one who could hear what Shepard said was her adversary.

"Oh, shit," Vakarian hissed, drawing James' attention away from the fight.

"What?"

"Cerberus wasn't after the kids," Jack supplied. "They were after Kat." Garrus nodded, then turned his head back to the women on the floor.

"We have to stop this."

The room lit up in blue light as one of them let lose a shock wave of energy. Probably Shepard. It was her favorite biotic power. But James agreed. Esteban's beloved shuttle bay would likely sustain more damage than the two women, and they couldn't afford to lose any supplies. Cautiously, the two men made their way around the small crowd on opposite sides of the bay. Garrus indicated that he would go for Shepard, which left the mystery woman, Kat, for James.

The next few moments were a blur. Everything moved too fast. One moment the women were standing several meters apart, the next he was sprinting to catch Kat in mid-charge. A full biotic charge. Garrus had gotten Shepard a split second before he collided with the blonde warrior, rolling onto the floor with a sickening, painful _crack_.

The burn in his left shoulder was unbelievable. James had taken the full brunt of the impact unshielded and his collarbone was on fire. His vision blurred, his stomach rolled, and it was all he could do to keep from spewing his lunch all over the petite female trapped underneath him. She wriggled next to him, pushing her hands against his chest, which sent another spasm of pain through his shoulder. Military reflex took over as he pulled himself up at the waist, straddling her legs and capturing her tiny wrists in his good hand.

"Don't. Fucking. Touch me," he growled, putting his face in hers until their noses were less than an inch apart. Curiosity at who she was warred with the anger that he had allowed her to hurt him. Her dark eyes flicked to his injured shoulder, and they softened to a rich chocolate brown in acknowledgment. She hadn't needed to say a word. The apology was written plainly on her face.

A face that was disturbingly familiar.

"Commander?" he asked, knowing she was nearby but not taking his gaze away from Kat. "You got an explanation for what I'm seeing here?"

"Yeah, but it's more fun to watch you squirm as you figure it out yourself," she replied. James closed his eyes and let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He looked back down at Kat through a haze of pain. The eyes were darker, the hair was lighter, but everything else about the face was identical to Shepard's. Except the lips. Those were definitely more kissable...

_Must've hit my head, too,_ he thought, giving it a small shake and letting his grip loosen. James rocked back onto the balls of his feet to let Kat crawl out from under him, only to feel her hands on his elbow to guide him to a standing position.

"Come on, Tiger," she said quietly. "This was my fault. Least I can do is help you to the med bay."

"El Tigre. My mama used to call me that," recalled James. Why was the room spinning? Who was turning out the lights? What...?

* * *

**A/N: Thank you, thank you thank you! Again, for clicking on this story. I know I said 5-10 days, but the weekend is looking to be busy and I might not get the chance to post, so here it is a little early. Chapter 3 will be up in a few weeks. :)**


	3. Pancakes

**Chapter Three: Pancakes**

An hour later, Kat was sitting in Heather's suite, looking hesitantly at the glass of whiskey in front of her. The man she had plowed into was resting in the med bay. She could still feel his eyes on her, like liquid gold pouring into her soul. Hurt, anger, confusion. Passion. Yes, that had flickered a brief moment through the pain-induced haze.

Next to the glass of whiskey was a credit chip. Heather had assured her that the station where they would be picking up the Salarian Dalatrass and dropping off the Academy students had a commissary where she could pick up some necessities. Should she chose to stay, of course.

Whatever anger she'd harbored towards her sister had been burned off on the shuttle bay floor. Kat understood the gravity of Heather's missions. Not that either of them had anyone left back on Earth to give a shit about – barring Anderson, of course – but it was still home. When this was all said and done, they wanted something to return to. Raise babies. Grow old. Heckle the men from their rocking chairs on the front porch.

She smiled as Heather brought this memory up. It had been their dream as kids. To get out of the slums and have a storybook life. But all that changed when her sister left for the military and dumped Kat at the temple.

Not that the Buddhist priests had been unkind. She had been lucky. Made friends. Learned martial arts, which had led to a highly coveted security position on one of the colonies when she was nineteen. A normal life. Until her sister, who had managed to visit at least once a year, got promoted to Spectre status by the Galactic Council.

"It was awful," she heard herself say. "I couldn't go anywhere. They all thought I was you. Asking me favors. Asking me questions. Wondering where 'my crew' was at."

Kat sighed and downed the whiskey in one gulp. She wouldn't allow herself to live that again. She was tired of hiding. There was a time that Kat was proud of her sister, happy for her, but never wanting that life. Too much excitement. But now she found herself at Heather's side, recruited into the biggest event of their lifetime.

* * *

"Do you think I made the right decision?" Heather stood with Garrus at the helm with Joker and EDI as the Normandy pulled away from the dock to begin their journey to Sur'Kesh.

"To keep your sister on board?" She nodded at her lover's question. "I know you're worried that you did it for sentimental reasons, but she'll be a more valuable asset than you're giving her credit for."

"She broke James," Joker added. "I'd say that definitely counts as a 'valuable asset.'"

"But she doesn't have any formal military experience..."

"Neither did Liara when she joined the crew of the first Normandy."

"Point taken."

It was silent for a moment, with EDI strangely quiet on the subject. Until..."She has skills similar to Thane's."

Thane Krios. They had lost him during the fight against the Collectors, falling to the creatures while the civilian crew members escaped from the alien base. Surely he had found the peace he had sought in his final moments of valor.

"I believe he would have liked her," the AI continued, but the humans and the turian still didn't respond. The loss of Thane and Miranda were still fresh, no matter if it had been longer since they had died than they had spent time on the Normandy. The bonds between crew members were for life.

Heather absently reached for Garrus' hand and he threaded two of his fingers between her middle three. Some bonds were stronger than others, he seemed to say wordlessly. _No. Not stronger. Just different._ She just hoped that at least some of them would be sitting on that porch with herself and Kat when all this was said and done.

* * *

It was dark on the ship when James finally awoke from his drugged sleep, shoulder wrapped in an elastic bandage, and an arm sling waiting for him on the bedside table. He vaguely remembered Dr. Chokwas helping him down to his room, but after that, nothing. The pain had receded to a dull ache, but the rumbling of his stomach told him that he had missed the evening meal.

"EDI, what time is it?" he asked, struggling with the contraption that would hold his arm still during his waking hours. Thank goodness it was his left collarbone that was broken. He'd be near helpless if it had been his right.

"02:32," the AI replied.

"Gracias."

_The kitchen should be empty_, he thought, noticing that he hadn't bothered to put on a shirt as he walked out of the room. Not that he expected it to bother anyone on the night shift. Hell, it was an Alliance vessel. Privacy wasn't exactly commonplace.

Traces of a fresh, hot meal tickled his nose as James stepped out of the elevator on the ship's third level. The mess itself was dark, but there was a glow of light over the kitchen. As he got closer, James saw someone with long blonde hair standing by a griddle, flipping...

"Pancakes?"

The chef let out a surprised squeak, dropping the spatula and spinning to face him. It was **her**.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people when they're cooking," Kat said, leaning over to pick up the fallen utensil. She dropped it quietly in the sink, grabbing a clean one from the drawer near the stove. Effortless. Fluid.

"Maybe you shouldn't cook at two-thirty in the morning," he countered.

"Maybe you shouldn't run in front of a charging biotic." The corner of her lips turned up in a smirk and James found himself smiling back as he closed the distance across the mess hall. He wanted a better look at his assailant. At least, that's what he told himself as she returned her attention to the meal.

Her hair was damp, falling in dark golden waves to her waist. It had been braided that afternoon. She wore gray Alliance sweats, rolled up to just below the knee, and her feet were bare. Through the curtain of hair, James could tell that she simply wore a black sports bra top, and seemed to be in no way self-conscious about it. Where the Commander was cut, her sister was trim. And had definitely seen more sunshine than the inside of a ship if the glow of her tan was any indication.

"How's the shoulder?" she asked, oblivious to the fact that he was checking her out a little more closely than he had first intended.

"I've had worse, but Doc wants me on light duty for two weeks."

"Good thing it never broke the skin. Don't think Heather would've liked you bleeding all over the floor of the shuttle bay," she said, looking over her shoulder and giving him a quick wink.

"She'd get over it," he replied, taking note of the teasing tone. "Spilled enough of her own, I bet. Besides, girls dig scars." James nearly covered his mouth, not having intended that last bit to slip, but resisted the urge as she looked back at him again. This time her gaze lingered, and he could practically feel it burn as she followed the line of his tattoos from his neck, down his arm and across his chest.

"Don't think it's the scars, Tiger."

"You have me there." She turned away again, clicking off the griddle and sliding the remaining hotcakes onto the waiting plate. His eyes widened as he took in the pile that had accumulated. "You know, I've heard rumors about a biotic's appetite..." Kat chuckled.

"I wasn't planning to eat all of them right now. Thought I'd freeze some so I don't have to cook in the middle of the night again."

"I was more hoping you'd be in a sharing mood." She cocked an eyebrow and leaned against the counter. "I mean, you **did** break my clavicle and all. It would make for a nice apology." As a point of emphasis, his stomach growled and he returned her stare. Amusement danced in her eyes and James nearly melted as they skimmed over his bare skin a second time.

Kat turned without saying a word, opening the cabinets above the counter. But what James noticed was how her hair swayed ever-so-slightly, giving him a glimpse of blue and green that ran the length of her spine before the amber locks concealed the tattoo from his sight again. Closing his eyes and exhaling, he didn't see her take two plates from the cabinet.

* * *

**Disclaimer: Bioware owns "Mass Effect." I just play with the action figures.**

**Thanks to all of the wonderful readers and the love you've given to James and Kat. Your adds/favorites/comments are what keep me writing.**


	4. Hot Mess

****Notice** Mild NSFW content to follow.**

**Chapter Four: Hot Mess**

Garrus woke to the uneven breathing of the woman next to him in bed. Asleep, but dreaming. Eyes twitching beneath closed lids, heartbeat increased. Dare he wake her? He'd heard it could be dangerous to wake someone from a dream, but nobody should be locked in a nightmare.

He leaned up on one elbow, looking down at her pale form. Outside of this room, she was strong. Armored not just physically but emotionally as well. Here she was vulnerable. For him, she let her mask slip, holding nothing back. Heather gasped in her sleep, and woke with a start. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her and she allowed him to pull her in closer.

Her breath was warm on his bare chest and her hair tickled the tender skin under his jaw. Garrus shivered. Turian females were so … rough … compared to Heather. Biting, clawing and grabbing were the acceptable means of turning on a member of his species. But the subtle nuances of touch that he had experienced with this single, fragile human drove him wild with need.

Heather giggled as she felt him pressing against her. "You're too easy, Vakarian," she teased, arching her hips towards him.

_No, I'm in love_, he wanted to say. But she wasn't ready to hear it. Not yet. "Seeing as how this is the first opportunity we've had in three days, I'd say your assumptions are incorrect," he supplied instead, nuzzling the side of her neck.

"Three days? Try six months."

"You have me there..."

"No," she said quietly, her tone switching from playful to serious in the span of a quickened heartbeat. Her brown eyes shone with something he'd never seen before, something he'd never expected as she took his hand and placed it on her chest. "I have you here."

Garrus didn't have any words to say. He knew what that admission had cost her, and he nearly crushed Heather to him as his heart soared. Then in one fluid motion, his mouth captured hers and he joined their bodies.

The awkwardness of their first time was gone. No vids from Mordin to make everything more complicated. The knew instinctively where to touch, how to move, what pace to set. The trust and respect they had as warriors carried to a new arena. There was no thinking, only feeling. And Spirits, this woman made him feel **alive**.

The noises she made as he slid inside of her. The sound of his name on her lips. The intoxicating scent of their lovemaking. It was overwhelming. And when he felt her tighten around him, Garrus stopped holding back, spilling himself into her as the waves of her orgasm milked him for every last drop.

They lay together for long moments, basking in the afterglow, as Garrus gently ran one claw up and then down the length of her spine. Somehow, something had changed. Before the Collectors, sex had been about blowing off steam. They experimented, tested, but never really made an emotional connection beyond that of friends and colleagues. After the Collector base, it had been pure, animalistic survival that had driven them. Not that he would complain about the two days they had spent tearing up her quarters, and each other for that matter, but still...

Garrus wanted a **future** with Heather. One that included fewer FTL jumps and more giggling children. A home. Earth, Palaven, the Citadel, he didn't care where. The beep of her omni-tool broke him from his thoughts, and she reluctantly tore herself away from the bed to check it.

"Time to get to work?" he suggested.

"Yes," she said with a sigh. "The galaxy won't save itself."

* * *

She hurt everywhere. Sur'Kesh had been nothing like what they expected. Cerberus swarming the facility, nearly losing the Krogan female they had come to save in order to cure the Genophage. The limits of her abilities had certainly been put to the test, and the only thing Kat could focus on was whether sleep or food was more important. Or a shower. Good heavens, she was a mess.

Heather gave her a sympathetic look from across the shuttle. "We'll be heading to the Citadel for a couple of days while Mordin works on the cure with Eve," she mentioned, sounding as tired as Kat felt. "I'm sure we can find you something resembling armor so you're not depleting your shields so quickly."

"You can do some window shopping from the requisitions console if you like," the shuttle pilot, Steve Cortez, offered. "Might help narrow down where to look."

Sleepily, Kat nodded and leaned her head against the wall. She had barely closed her eyes for a second before she heard the sound of the door opening into the bay of the Normandy. She felt Heather's light touch on her shoulder, and the sisters leaned on each other for support as they poured out of the shuttle. After two shaky steps, she felt Steve on her other side, taking her away as Garrus slipped an arm around Heather.

"Where are we...?" she started to ask as he passed by the elevator and opened the door to the port-side bedroom.

"The Dalatrass is pitching a fit about helping the Krogans," he replied. "James and I thought it better if you had somewhere more quiet to go, considering she didn't let you sleep much from what I hear."

"Snores."

"Yeah, and if you had mentioned that last night, I would've moved you down here sooner." James. She didn't need to see him to know who it was. His rich baritone sent a shiver down her spine, and she stumbled just as Cortez set her on the edge of the bed nearest the bathroom. Kat spared him a quick glance, noting with relief that he was wearing a shirt.

A wave of dizziness washed over her, and a large hand wrapped itself around her arm to keep her from falling over on the bed. Next to her, Cortez kept a supportive arm around her shoulders while he digged in his pocket. Within moments, he passed a ration bar into her line of vision, which she took and nibbled on as the vertigo began to dissipate.

"Chow's on in five." James said, releasing his hand and sitting on her other side. "I can bring something down for you since you're...you know...kind of a hot mess right now."

"Why?"

"Well, you're hot. And you're a mess. Kinda thought..."

"No," she interrupted, turning to face him. Their noses were inches apart. Again. Kat saw flecks of brown as dark as her own in the molten gold of his eyes. "I mean why are you doing this for me?"

Steve coughed uncomfortably and stood up, but his hand lingered on her bicep for a split second as he gave it a friendly squeeze in farewell. She barely had time to register that he was gone before James stood and began pacing the floor.

"I've been thinking about this a lot," he started. "Maybe too much. But damn near everyone on this ship was with the Commander when she was hunting Saren or the Collectors. Hell, some of them were along for both. But you and I? Esteban? Maybe one or two others?" James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. Sometimes it's like I'm still on the outside looking in, you know? They've done all these awesome things and we're still earning our stripes."

She understood. Kat had felt the same way while she was on Sur'Kesh with Heather and Liara. Sure, Commander Shepard was her sister, but it wasn't the same bond. "Need someone to talk to who doesn't begin every conversation with 'Back on the SR-1.'"

"Exactly."

The butterflies that had been building in the pit of her stomach suddenly disappeared as Kat came to the realization that she had been worried about ulterior motives. But he was being a gentleman. Being a **friend**. And a friend was something she needed if she was going to make it out of this war with her life and sanity both intact.

* * *

****Disclaimer** Bioware still owns Mass Effect.**

**Reviews, follows & faves are keeping this alive! Thanks! I have 10 chapters completed, and this will run to appx 25 by the end. Questions/comments/suggestions? Feel free to PM me. I'm on the site at least every other day and will answer any messages you send. :)**


	5. Poker Face

**Chapter Five: Poker Face**

James looked at the selection of food in the mess and frowned. Something resembled pork chops. Something else resembled green beans. And something else didn't resemble anything he'd ever seen before, but he piled a heap of it on both plates regardless.

"More of everything," he heard a familiar gravelly voice say as Garrus sidled up next to him. "Biotics can put away a meal like the rest of us inhale a ration bar."

"Puts me to shame, that's for sure." It was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and the turian's mandibles twitched in what he assumed to be a smirk.

"Yeah, I may have heard something about a certain marine stealing pancakes from the Commander's sister at three in the morning."

James laughed out loud at the fresh memory. Yeah, she had gotten out two plates, but only gave him three hotcakes out of the two dozen she had cooked up. He had spent the next thirty minutes thinking of creative ways to sneak bites off her plate. It had been a fun distraction from staring at her bare torso.

"She's a hell of a woman. Fun. Sexy. Tough."

"It runs in the family. You know, I don't think you thought your dinner plans through very well," the turian said, gesturing at the sling.

"Sure I did, Scars. There's covers for the plates under..."

"Not what I meant, Jimmy."

"What do you...oh...ooohhhh." James coughed as he picked up on Garrus' meaning. "No plans beyond dinner. Just friends."

"Glad to hear it."

_**That** was awkward,_ James thought, grabbing the plate covers and heading towards the elevator. The Commander's boyfriend pressing him to see if he was planning to seduce Kat. Granted, living in such close proximity to her now would be frustrating as all hell, but he had told her the truth. Shipboard flings might work for some people, but not for James. Better to just let that particular fire burn where nobody could see it. No sense in anyone getting hurt.

* * *

"I still can't believe you have me spying on your sister," Garrus said, fidgeting with the food on his plate. His microwaved dextro meal looked considerably less appealing than her fresh-cooked one, and Heather felt a twinge of disappointment that they didn't have better food on board for the turians.

"Don't think of it as 'spying,' then. Just putting your C-Sec training to good use." she teased.

"Who says they can't just be friends? Or roommates?"

"EDI? Care to enlighten Garrus on what you told me?" Logic. That's what she needed to get him on her side in this.

"I have detected higher pulse rates and hormone levels whenever Lieutenant Vega and Katherine are around one another. It is indicative of a mutual attraction."

"See? It's only a matter of time."

"They're both adults," he countered.

"What if it were **your** sister?"

"It's none of my business until she makes it my business."

_Turians,_ she thought. _They have a whole different kind of logic when it comes to relationships._

"Maybe this is something you should talk to Kat about."

"Kat won't talk about it. Hell, I didn't even find out she was married until after she was divorced." Garrus raised his brow ridges, curious, but not saying a word. He was a good man. Knew when to shut up. Knew when to talk. Right now, the whiskey was talking. Heather hadn't meant to let that slip. "It's complicated. She was young. Had just gotten the job on Terra Nova. Turns out the bastard had a wife on another planet."

"Well, I'm sure that's something you can look up on your own, but it's doubtful that Jimmy's hiding a wife on some obscure chunk of land." Heather sighed. Garrus was right. Maybe she **was** just overreacting. "Let her make friends. If anything else happens, well...just take comfort that she could find happiness with someone in what might be our final hours."

But that was exactly what Heather worried about. What if these **weren't** the final hours and everything fell apart after the Reapers were defeated?

* * *

James sat at the poker table in the Citadel refugee camp, back to the wall and eyes peering over his cards. The Shepard sisters had come into his line of sight about ten minutes ago, and seeing Kat in public was a distraction he didn't need. One of his companions emphasized this weakness by throwing down a dominant hand, taking a good chunk of credits that James had contributed to the pot.

"Aw, you gotta be kidding me!" he exclaimed, frustrated more with himself than the game. His voice carried to the cargo hold Kat and Heather had just left, and the Commander turned her head in his direction. Without skipping a beat, she headed up the stairs towards the poker game, with Kat trailing reluctantly.

"Need something, Commander?" he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"About to head back to the Normandy. Just thought I'd stop by and say, 'hello,'" she replied.

"Got a spot open if you want us to deal you in."

"I'll pass, but thanks."

"Kat?" James ventured, expecting a similar answer. Her posture indicated that she was uncomfortable. Maybe it was he crowd. He'd never seen her out mingling with the crew on-board much, either. But to his surprise, she nodded.

James moved over on the couch, making space for his roommate while he introduced the other players. Heather had left as soon as her sister had settled in, with an off-handed comment for her to not lose everything on the credit chip. One of the boys sitting across from them, Davy, was openly checking her out. Not that James could blame him.

Kat looked absolutely lethal. An old pair of fatigues that rode a little low on the hips. Combat boots that she swore she hated wearing, but what choice did she have until she could get her own? White ribbed tank top that hugged every luscious curve and exposed the lines of her arm muscles. Dog tags, standard issue even for civilian employees, that were hidden just barely out of sight underneath the shirt, nestled between her breasts. Hair in it's trademark braid, daring James to give it a tug.

Which, of course, he did, but playfully. Teasing Kat slightly and forcing her to relax.

She swore that she wasn't a very good player, allowing Davy to flirt and seem to keep her off her guard. Most hands, she folded in the first round or two. A couple she won from sheer luck, because her poker face needed a **lot** of work. But she never lost enough to drop out of the game, and soon there were just three left of the original seven.

She looked genuinely distressed over this last hand, but James knew he had it in the bag. A straight flush would beat even a set of four. There was a lot of money at stake, and Davy was trying to sweet-talk her out of it. Kat had blushed and giggled at his continued advances, but never indicated that she'd let him take it any further than the game.

But she was holding on to this final set of cards. That's when it hit James: she had been playing them all along. He needed to change his game, and fast. The stakes had just been raised...again...and it was his turn to go all in or fold. Seconds ticked by. And finally a decision.

"Shit," he said, tossing his cards face-down on the table. She raised it again. Davy stared. She smiled and tilted her head. All an act. And Davy folded.

The fluffy-headed girl had disappeared as soon as they left the table, but James could still tell she was uneasy around the Citadel crowds while they walked back to the Normandy's dock. He tried to do his best to keep her occupied with conversation, and was glad when it began to work.

"You should buy us all lunch tomorrow. That was quite a haul you pulled in."

"Not a bad idea. And part of it was **your** money anyway, so it'd be more like both of us treating the crew."

James chuckled at the notion, thinking he'd rather have a lunch date with just the two of them. Not that he'd ever let Kat in on that particular fantasy. It kept things less complicated. But there was another option he wanted to try with her.

"Or maybe you can hang with me one night while I clear out Joker and Esteban in the crew lounge. We've gotten a weekly game started up."

"Now **that** I can do," she chuckled, patting the pocket where her winnings were stashed. An evil grin spread across her face and James couldn't help but wonder one last thing before they boarded the Normandy.

"Kat?"

"Hmm?"

"What exactly did you have in that last hand?"

"Trip deuces," she said, winking at him over her shoulder as the door opened to the ship.

_Shit_, he thought, following her and shaking his head. _I might as well just hand her every credit I have now. _What he said was, "Buy something pretty."

The sound of her laughter was the best response James could have asked for.

* * *

***Disclaimer* Creative rights to Mass Effect are property of Bioware.**

***A/N* Thought I'd drop you all a bonus chapter this weekend to celebrate the release of Mass Effect's final DLC in the series, "Citadel." Which brings up a question for my readers: Do you want me to include any or all of the ME3 DLC subplots in this story? I already have plans for "In Ashes" to come into play, but what are your thoughts on the other three?**


	6. Memories

**Chapter Six: Memories**

Kat could hear him in her dreams. The moans of pain. The cries of anger. The ragged sighs of disappointment. Names of people she didn't know.

He was beginning to thrash around as she gained consciousness. Instantly alert at the sounds of his nightmare, Kat pushed a button near her bed to turn on the dim overhead light. James was twisted in his sheets, sweating and moaning. It seemed to be worse than the one a few nights prior.

"James?" she called hesitantly, climbing out of her own bed and moving towards his. No response. A different approach. "Wake up, Lieutenant!" she said, raising the volume of her voice in hopes of piercing through the dream. Still nothing. If he didn't wake up soon, he'd be wearing that damn sling for another week. As a last resort, she slapped him across the face.

He was awake.

She was on the floor, pinned beneath him, but he was awake. James' eyes were wild. Feral, even, but as soon as they locked with Kat's, they softened and he moved off of her.

"Shit," he mumbled, offering her a hand up. "I'm sorry."

"I knew the risk," she replied, taking it and hauling herself to her feet. Kat desperately wanted to ask him about it, but if there was one thing she knew about soldiers it was not to press them about the images of war that haunted them. He'd either come to trust her with it or not. It wasn't her call to make. "Want to hit the weights again?"

"No," he said, shaking his head and sitting on the edge of his bed. "More tired now than I was before lights out." James paused, grabbing a fistful of bedsheets and yanking on them before turning back to Kat. "I know this is weird of me to ask, but could you spare half the bed? My sheets are soaked."

She couldn't help but turn the corner of her mouth up in a smirk. Heather would shit puppies. James had told her about Garrus asking about their "living arrangement" four nights earlier. "I guess I could spare the three-quarters you'd take up," she teased. "Maybe find some lame vid to get you back to sleep. But James?" He looked quizzically at Kat, and she saw the exhaustion written plainly on his face. "You stink. Get a shower first, ok?"

* * *

Heather Shepard walked into the shuttle bay and saw two figures hunched over the requisitions terminal. Since the main compartment was dark, their silhouettes made it difficult to make out who they were, but the sound of their voices as she approached confirmed her suspicions.

"I think this would be nice," Steve Cortez was saying. "Casual, but nice enough to turn some heads."

"It looks so...short," came Kat's reply, and Heather could envision the wrinkle in her sister's nose.

"Spending your winnings?" she said, butting into the conversation and leaning against the desk. Of course she had heard about Kat's sweep at the poker table the night before. Joker had mentioned something to her that morning at breakfast, confirmed by James' groan of disappointment.

"Yeah, but not the way you think," said Cortez, switching to a new catalog. "We just heard the door and didn't know who it was, so we had the dress shop up as cover." Interest piqued, Heather looked at the new picture on the screen. It was...

"A guitar? For who?"

"Vega. His birthday's in about a week."

Heather's jaw nearly dropped. How had she missed that? Surely she had known...

"You've been a little busy, Sis," Kat said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Of course her sister could read her. Even as kids Kat always had impeccable timing with her affection. Heather thought it was a good balance for being held at arm's length for most of the time. Seeing her form friendships with Steve and James in the past week was refreshing.

Which brought Heather back to her reason for coming to the shuttle bay. "You said you wanted to talk?" she asked Cortez. He glanced at Kat, who nodded, then silently slipped away. After a moment, they heard the door to her quarters open, then close, and she was gone.

"I've decided," he said with a sigh, "to go to the Memorial Wall."

* * *

They were back at the Citadel. It seemed like they made side trips every other day, but in truth, it was only their second visit in the ten days since she had joined the crew. And there was something Kat had promised Steve she would help him with before their trip to the Presidium.

It felt strange, walking through the docks in casual wear instead of the fatigues she had borrowed from Heather on her first trip. The hem of her dress tickled the back of her thighs and her peep-toe heels clicked on the metallic floor. But she knew where she was headed, and Kat made a beeline for Steve when she saw him standing near the Memorial Wall in the makeshift refugee camp.

"You made it," he said quietly, caressing the frame that housed his husband's holo.

"Of course I did," Kat replied, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. "It's what friends do."

"I'm glad you're here." Steve took his time, listening to the last words that Robert had left for him while the Collectors swarmed the colony they had called home. Finally, he pulled away from her to place the frame with the others along the wall. When he came back, she noticed his eyes dart past her. When she turned, Kat saw James approaching.

He had stopped wearing the sling a few days back, but the tight shirt he never seemed to take off (or maybe he just had a million of the same kind) showed the outline of the bandage he still wore. James had been restless. Irritable, even, and Kat was glad he was able to get off the ship for a bit to blow off steam.

"Off to your poker game?" Steve asked, ignoring the fact that James hadn't taken his eyes off of Kat.

"You know it. Might have a couple seats open if you guys wanna join." His gaze flicked briefly to Steve, concern etched across his face as he realized where they at. Regardless of the teasing and the jokes these two engaged in, Kat could tell that they were good friends, and she was lucky that they had brought her into their strange brotherhood.

"We'll pass this time around," Steve said, sparing a conspiratorial wink for her. "But maybe we can stop by after we're done with dinner."

"I'll hold you to it, Esteban. Have fun, kids!" he teased, turning towards the holding cells. She was slightly disappointed that he hadn't commented on her outfit, and continued with Steve towards the elevator. But Kat hadn't gotten further than three strides before she felt someone grab her hand.

The biotic flare in her fist faded the second she realized it was James. Steve nodded when she looked back at him, allowing herself to be pulled against the marine. He didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, so he laced their fingers together as he leaned in. His face was next to hers, his breath hot as he brushed his lips against her temple.

"You look amazing, Katherine," he whispered. Then, almost as quickly as he had approached, James released her hands and took a step back. He stared for a moment longer, then retreated to his game. Kat watched him until he was out of sight, fully aware that Steve had come to stand next to her.

"I told you that dress would get results."

"Shut up," she teased, punching him lightly in the arm before tucking her hands back at his elbow. But she had to admit, he was absolutely right.

****Disclaimer** Guess who owns "Mass Effect?" That's right. Not me.**

**A/N: I will probably start popping out the story chapters a little more frequently from here on out. With no new "Mass Effect" material coming out, and "Dragon Age: Inquisition" not due until the end of the year, I'll be playing less and writing more. I can't guarantee new material every week on each individual story, but with three active and a fourth in-progress, I'll have a little something for everyone between Wednesday and Friday from now until the Muse stops speaking to me.**


	7. Dust in the Wind

****Moderate NSFW material to follow****

**Chapter Seven: Dust in the Wind**

"NO! Stop!"

James' screams jolted Kat out of bed. Even in the dark, she knew how to find him. He wasn't tossing. Not yet, anyway, and when she had crossed the space separating their beds, her hand found his shoulder. James shuddered, and screamed again.

"Come on, Tiger," she pleaded, daring to get closer. "Wake up."

"Kat! Come back!"

His words send a chill clear to her bones, but she couldn't stop herself. He was still sleeping. Still trapped in the nightmares from his past. Kat reached out, hands meeting his chest, snaking their way up to his face and cupping it.

"I'm right here, James."

There was a final hitch in his throat as James finally escaped from the dream, inhaling deeply before his breath returned to normal. Somehow, Kat couldn't bring herself to move her hands.

"You're here," he confirmed, and she felt his fingers skimming up her arm in the dark.

She could've stopped it there. But she didn't want to. The sound of her name as he called out in the throes of his nightmare had rocked her to the core. That whatever loss haunted him, he saw her face as something he didn't want to lose to the horror. In that moment, his real feelings for her had been exposed and Kat didn't want to lose that.

"You're really here," James said again, and she felt him moving. Sitting up. Pulling her towards him and burying his face in her shoulder as she ran her fingers through his hair. "You could've died today."

"And you could die tomorrow." It was out of her mouth before she realized it. They were mortal. Soldiers fighting in a war where nobody was safe. Each day could be their last. Each night could bring new nightmares. Maybe all they would have was this moment, and Kat was just plain **tired** of convincing herself that she all she really needed was his companionship.

All thoughts slipped her mind when his lips began to climb up the side of her neck and his arms tightened around her back. She allowed him to pull her into his lap, opened her mouth to his desperate kisses, and found herself wishing that James had done this days ago.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't slow. In the space of a heartbeat, Kat's top had been pulled off and his tongue was teasing her nipple. A tiny gasp of pleasure escaped her lips, and she dug her nails into his back, beckoning James closer. He was more than happy to oblige. His mouth trailed from her breasts, up her collarbone, her neck, her ear and across the sensitive skin under her jaw. Her body was pressed to his bare torso, sliding down as his face moved up towards her own. Heat was building between her legs, and she arched into him, pressing her pelvis against his abdomen.

Their mouths met again, a torrent of lips and tongues that teased and tasted. Kat sank into his lap, letting loose a groan of desire as her sex brushed against his swollen member. James forced his mouth away from hers, moaning as he bucked against her.

"Lieutenant Vega?" Both James and Kat stiffened at the AI's interruption, and she felt herself flush with embarrassment when faced with the idea that EDI may have been monitoring them.

"What?" He was frustrated. And rightfully so as EDI's next statement confirmed her suspicions.

"I feel compelled to inform you that Commander Shepard has been making inquiries of me concerning your relationship with Katherine. If your current actions lead to intercourse, I will be compelled to inform her." Kat couldn't help but smile at the AI's clinical analysis of the situation, in spite of her sister's meddling.

"So, you have to report in on Kat's **sex life**?" James asked bluntly, leaning back to turn on the dim table lamp. She blushed again as his eyes skimmed over her bare skin, but there was anger in them now and Kat knew that whatever opportunity they'd had was gone.

"Correct."

"Can't you tell her 'no?'"

"She is my commanding officer and I was ordered to..."

"That is the most loco, fucked-up thing I've ever heard," James interrupted, standing to his feet and pacing between the beds. Kat was at a loss for words. Fortunately, so was EDI.

He was fuming, swearing in both English and Spanish, and she could practically see the engine turning in his head as he tried to make sense of it all. Reluctantly, she grabbed her shirt and pulled it back on while she waited for his anger to burn off. After a couple of minutes, James stopped pacing and sat on the bed next to her. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in to press his lips to hers. It was a gentle, lingering kiss, and when he pulled away, Kat saw a twinge of sadness in his hazel eyes.

"Tell the Commander that there's nothing to report," he told EDI quietly.

* * *

The mood around the poker table was a somber one. James' triumphant return to the battlefield on Tuchanka that afternoon had been clouded by the loss of another old crew member. That Mordin Solis had died distributing the cure for the Genophage did nothing to cut the pain, and Garrus found himself unable to concentrate on the game. James' mood was even darker, and the turian couldn't blame him.

The burly human had come to the shuttle bay looking like a kicked puppy (a human phrase Heather was fond of that seemed to suit James perfectly at the time) instead of with the enthusiasm at returning to duty everyone had expected. EDI later confessed to him – and **only** him – that she had interrupted Kat and James early that morning to give them the warning about Heather's order. Her news didn't surprise him. That the couple had agreed to comply in order to keep the peace with their Commander did.

Dammit, this should have been a day for celebration. Where were the girls? They had been planning this for days. Someone needed to do something.

He didn't have to wait long. The door slid open just as he was about to fold his last hand, and Garrus watched as the Shepard sisters, EDI and Liara walked in, arms laden with the promise of festivities. Complete with...

"Cake!"

"Not just any cake, Tiger," Kat said with a wink as she pulled a box of candles out of a pocket.

In the four years he'd been with Commander Shepard's crew, she had never missed a birthday. Given the nature of their work, parties were rare, and they took every opportunity afforded to them to have one. Steve had let it slip to Kat, who passed it on to Heather, who then roped everyone else into it. Everyone except Jimmy. And the look on his face was priceless.

"You dog, Esteban," he said, knowing exactly who the original culprit was. "**That's** what you and Kat were doing at the Citadel the other day."

"No, that's what everyone but **you** was doing on the Citadel," his friend corrected with a conspiratorial grin for their blonde friend.

Time ticked by as happier memories were made and the alcohol flowed. Not too heavily, of course, but Jimmy was more than happy to share shots of something called "Cuervo" as they all toasted the brave Salarian. Heather was by his side, watching her sister, knowing there was one last gift stashed behind the bar.

Garrus eventually saw Kat lift her empty glass, then waved at James to get another bottle. This was the signal everyone had been waiting for. And the moment he saw what they had been hiding, his face went blank. Someone, he wasn't sure who, had the bar top cleared off in a flash, and Jimmy lifted the heavy black case up for them all to see. Three clicks, and it was open.

Whatever it was, he looked at it the same way Garrus looked at his favorite rifle. His hands shook, lifting it out, fingers skimming across the hourglass body, plucking at the strings tentatively. A musical instrument of some kind.

"A guitar," Heather whispered. "Steve told us he used to play."

"A very **expensive** guitar," supplemented Joker from his other side.

"Just wait," the commander said, her eyes brimming with tears of happiness for her friend. "I think Kat might have one more surprise for us before the night's over."

* * *

An Ovation. Just like Abuelo's. Well, not **just** like it. But close enough.

James plucked at the strings, tentatively at first, making tiny adjustments for tune and marveling at the clarity of the sound. It had been almost a year since he'd been able to play, and that was on a borrowed guitar. He was almost afraid to make an ass of himself, but these were his friends. They had apparently pitched in to get it for him. The least he could do was make it sing.

He started simple, but once the music came, it flowed from one song to the next. Little pieces of home, friends sitting around the room, some of them curled up together like Lola and Scars, some of them still holding their drinks. James heard a couple of people humming along every now and then, but he never stayed on one song for more than a verse or two.

He looked up at Steve. His friend had heard him play before, and had a fairly decent singing voice as he recalled. There was one thing that came to mind, and given their loss earlier in the day, it seemed appropriate. It was an old song. One his Abuelo used to play, and it was older still by nearly two centuries. The strings were flying under his fingers, but he stumbled when he heard the voice that was most definitely **not** Esteban's.

"I close my eyes, only for a moment and the moment's gone..." Beautiful. God, could it really belong to Kat? Would she ever stop surprising him? "Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea..." Steve's harmony on the next verse nearly killed him. It was all he could do to concentrate. Somehow he made it to the end of the song, looking up into the room full of friends. Taking one hand off the strings, he grabbed the nearest glass and raised it.

"To all we've lost. And to all that we've gained." His eyes flicked to Kat, holding her gaze as he finished with, "Thank you."

* * *

****Disclaimer** Yeah, you know the routine by now.**

**A/N : 1) Pardon me in advance for slipping into bitch mode, but please keep your comments relative to the story itself. If you want to argue game specifics/release dates/platforms/etc, Bioware has forums on their websites & wikis for that. Trying to belittle me for not taking the fan speculation on those forums as gaming truth just emphasizes why I stay off them in the first place. 2) Happier note - for those of you who are also Dragon Age fans, take a stroll on my author profile and give some love to "Ferelden Sunset." I'll be mucking up the lives of Solona & Marian over there for at least the next two years.**


	8. Confessions

**Chapter Eight: Confessions**

_A blackened forest. Voices whispering all around her. _

_The small boy with the white hooded sweatshirt. Always just beyond her reach. _

_He runs. She finds him. _

_He runs again. She catches him._

_And he burns..._

Heather Shepard fought with the sheets as the voices of the dead still echoed in her mind. Mordin's had been among them. But there was another with her now, pulling her close and muttering in her ear. Stroking his talons through her hair.

"How many more do we have to lose before we finally win this war, Garrus?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. He was silent for a moment, the pause of his hand indicating that he was thinking of one.

"Optimistically? None. But realistically? I...I don't know. There are too many variables to make that kind of prediction right now."

She knew he still hadn't heard from his family, and her heart ached for him. How could she be so selfish to not see that her loved ones were here with her on the Normandy?

"I can't even begin to understand what you're..."

"We'll find them," he said, knowing exactly where she was going. "You found me. You found Kat. Old friends are popping up on the radar everywhere we go. It's just a matter of time before I get in touch with Dad. He'll know where everyone else is."

It was a small consolation. But with Garrus' arms around her and his breath in her hair, Heather relaxed back into dreamless sleep.

* * *

James was reluctant to leave the commander's quarters. He had done what he came to her for. Asked her about the N7 Program. Told her about Fehl. But there was something else that had nagged at him for the past four days, and he warred with himself about confronting her about it.

"Is there something else, James?" she asked, a look of genuine concern washing over her face. It was what he liked about her, that compassion for her crew that turned squad mates into friends. But she had toed that fine line of trust by meddling in her sister's affairs. Literally.

"I know about your orders to EDI," he said quietly, hoping to keep the irritation out of his voice. She said nothing, but crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow as if expecting him to continue. "The one about me and Katherine."

_Shit, shit, shit!_ James cursed himself as soon as her name crossed his lips. _**Nobody** calls her that except EDI._

"Is there anything going on that I should know about?" Shepard asked.

_Yes_, he wanted to scream at her. _I have a beautiful, intelligent and talented woman sleeping eight feet away from me every night and you're cock-blocking me!_

"No, ma'am," he replied. "I just think it's a crock of shit that you're meddling in her love life before she even gets a chance to have one."

"I don't want her hurt again."

"Come on, Commander. That was years ago. Don't you think she'd be a bit smarter about it now?"

"She told you about Greyson?"

She was genuinely surprised. Which only made him angrier. James remembered the night that he and Kat had stayed up with Steve as he struggled with his decision to add Robert's holo to the Memorial Wall. She had shared that piece of her past with them in comfort for their friend, not knowing that it killed him to know that some _pendejo_ had done that to her.

"Kat's my roommate," he said, clenching his jaw. "Hell, she's my **friend**. One of the best I've got right now. And she's not a kid anymore in case you hadn't noticed."

"I know that," Shepard snapped. "But what if..."

"No offense, Commander, but we're in the middle of the biggest fucking war our cycle has ever seen." She looked like she wanted to say something, but James took a chance to hush her by holding up a hand before she could speak. _Fuck insubordination._ "Lock me in the brig if you want, but it has to be said. Any one of us could get killed in the next battle. You. Me. Scars." He didn't miss the flash of emotion in her eyes at the last name, so he continued. "We've already lost a lot of our friends. So tell me, Shepard, which would hurt worse? Losing your lover, or losing someone who **could have been** but died without you ever having told them how you feel?"

He didn't wait for her answer. James was done. He turned on his heel and stalked out the door, hoping Commander Shepard would contemplate his words in the uneasy quiet he had left her in.

* * *

"You make me sick, EDI."

Kat spared a glance for the subject of Traynor's ire and nearly broke her concentration as the urge to laugh overwhelmed her. Amidst the group that had accumulated for her morning workout, the AI's new body displayed a perfect execution of King Pigeon. There were easily a dozen people spread out on the shuttle bay floor, including Liara, Steve and Heather.

What had started as simple meditative yoga on the Observation Deck each morning before breakfast had blown up into a class that rivaled the size of one she had taught at Grissom. Today was their first day in the shuttle bay, and she had accumulated five new 'students' once word passed through the ship. The move had also prompted a crowd to accumulate. There certainly seemed to be more people watching than participating.

She flowed with the light, tribal undertones of the music Liara had suggested to her. Not everyone would be able to execute the positions, and she emphasized that if anyone was uncomfortable that they shouldn't attempt it. As with any workout, even Yoga could be damaging if pushed past one's personal limits.

"Nice ass, Esteban!" rang a familiar voice across the bay.

"I didn't know you could do that, Commander," said another.

The comments from James and Garrus began a wave of heckling from the audience, and more than one student had gone down as a result. She had expected it, having spoken about it with the turian as a means to practice 'concentration under fire.' Liara ignored it completely, but a few, including Kat herself, began to give back as good as they were getting.

"I don't see you out here on the floor, Tiger," she quipped.

"Last time I tangled with you, I had my arm in a sling for a week." She could hear his boots on the floor, heading her direction. "Besides, I don't bend that direction. But Esteban does!"

"Fuck you, Vega," Steve countered, not breaking concentration.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Esteban? Wrong plumbing."

_Well, there goes Cortez...and Heather._ Her sister dropped at some whispered comment from Garrus. Now it was just Kat, EDI and Liara. And James was circling her like the very creature she liked to refer to him as.

"No touching, Jimmy," she heard Garrus tell him. It was the one rule they had agreed on.

"Don't worry," James assured him, crouching right in front of Kat. "I won't."

His voice dropped an octave, soft and seductive, speaking only to her now, moving to keep her in his sight as she continued to flow through poses. She couldn't understand it all, since her Spanish was a little rusty, but she caught the general idea behind what he was saying.

_Every night, I desire you. Every night, I resist you. You are power. Beauty. The friend I never expected. The lover I can never have. My greatest strength and my greatest weakness. I remember the feel of your skin under my hands. The taste of my name on your lips. But I want more. So much more... _

The last statement finally shook her as she was between poses, his face inches away from her own. Kat couldn't stop herself. The opportunity was too tempting. Her hand shot out to grab his dog tags, pulling him closer.

"All you had to do was ask, James."

* * *

****Disclaimer** Bioware owns "Mass Effect"**

**A/N : Hmm...how long should I make y'all wait for the next chapter?**


	9. Stuck

**Chapter Nine: Stuck**

_Oh, shit._

James felt his face flush with embarrassment and he turned his head away. It had been a mistake to assume that Kat wouldn't have been able to understand what he had been wanting to tell her since the morning that EDI had interrupted them. All the weight he had on his shoulders, the burden of suppressing his growing need to be with her in order to avoid causing problems with the commander, came crashing down in that single moment.

The chain around his neck loosened, and James could see the pain and confusion in her eyes when he looked back at Kat. She moved, ever so slightly, away from him, and fear struck to his very core. By not taking the chance he was given, he was hurting her. Exactly what Shepard was afraid of.

"Katherine, don't," he said, reaching out to graze the side of her face with his thumb.

"Why now?" she asked quietly. "Why not on the Citadel? Or at your birthday party? I thought..." her breath hitched, and she looked away. "That morning before the mission on Tuchanka, I thought..."

James remembered that moment with perfect clarity. The way he woke from a nightmare to the sound of her voice. Her delicate hands on his face. The intoxicating scent uniquely **hers** as he pulled her close. He had wanted so much more than what few precious moments they had shared. Tearing himself away from Kat had taken every ounce of willpower James possessed.

She deserved so much more than what he could offer. A split second too late, he realized that he had expressed that thought out loud. Her eyes softened, and she leaned into his hand.

"Everything I want is right here, Jaime." A surge of desire ran through his veins at her pronunciation of his name in its Spanish form. _Fuck the consequences_, he thought, closing the tiny bit of distance that remained between them. He wasn't going to miss this chance twice.

That moment where his lips met hers felt like an eternity. The stakes were raised. This wasn't a poker game, but it was certainly a gamble. To risk having his heart broken. Worse, to lose Kat in this damn war. It all gave new meaning to the phrase, 'enjoy it while it lasts.'

"If...uh...you two are done," he heard Garrus say from somewhere nearby, discreetly **not** watching, "there seems to be a problem at the Citadel that the Commander could use your help with."

* * *

_Too many people, _Heather Shepard thought as the Cerberus soldiers dropped on them from one of the shafts. Heaven only knew how fast they were going, crowded together on the roof of the center elevator. A single misstep could send one of them falling to their death.

They had been battling the Illusive Man's operatives for what felt like hours. Running frantically through the Citadel to find the Salarian Counselor, and now chasing down a damn **assassin** before he could make an attempt at the remaining two. If it hadn't been for Kirrahe...

The memory of her friend being gunned down forced a guttural cry from Heather, and she lashed out at the nearest soldier. Blue energy lifted him in the air, slamming him against a wall, and released him down the elevator shaft. Nearby, James blasted a hole the size of Canada through the midsection of another armored operative, while Kat swiftly snapped the neck of a sword-bearing Phantom.

Ok. Not so many people now.

"Flashy bitch," Kat said, kicking the Phantom over the side of the elevator. "'Look at me! I can carry a sword and do cartwheels through the air.'" Heather's mouth tugged into a grin at her sister's pantomime. The sarcasm was masking the pain, and she knew it would get worse before they could get off the station and back to Chokwas.

Soon. Very soon. The elevator housing the remaining council members was in sight, and they could finally confront Udina. _God. How long has he been in Cerberus' pocket? _At Bailey's prompt, the trio leaped to the stationary lift and began searching for the emergency hatch to get inside. They were about to get their answers.

* * *

"Oh, fuck," Kat growled, sliding down the wall of the elevator and pulling out her earpiece as soon as the two Spectres and remaining Councilors had exited at the Embassies. She touched her side gingerly, grimacing when her hand came back bloody. The sword had cut right through her armor.

"Think I'll have to pass on that offer for now," James said, crouching down next to her. She smiled weakly as he checked the wound, still bleeding slowly even through the application of medigel she had applied before they had gone on their wild elevator ride. Thank the gods for that shit. Kat would've bled out on the floor of the Presidium without it. "Hit anything vital?" he asked.

"Don't think I'd have made it this far if I had. How'd you fare?"

"Got in a fist fight with a mech."

"I saw that."

"I won."

"Saw that, too."

The elevator stopped at the Normandy's docking bay, and James stood, holding a hand out for Kat. She took it without hesitation, and he helped her up as gently as possible. The area was practically empty compared to the usual bustle, and they leaned on each other for support as they made their way to the ship. Kat noticed a slight hitch in his gait, and sure enough, there was a new dent in the armor near his left knee when she looked down.

"The welcoming committee is on it's way," James said, removing his own comm unit. "The Commander called in to Chokwas. She's prepping the med bay and Esteban's coming up to help get you down there."

"I'll be fine," she said, heat blooming in her cheeks as his arm tightened around her hips. Even through the pain, his scent overwhelmed her. It was intoxicating, the way he smelled after a battle, and her head swam with the images it conjured. She'd seen James stalk into their bathroom after a fight, stripped to the waist, the scent of blood, smoke and gun oil wafting towards her before he disappeared behind the door.

"You've lost a lot of blood," he told her, leaning his head down so his mouth was hovering over her ear. Just like it had been on the Citadel before he kissed her. "But I guess you still have enough to blush so I won't worry too much." Kat felt her knees go weak at the teasing tone in his voice, but managed to recover control of her legs before they gave out.

"You two look like shit," she heard Steve stay as they rounded the corner to the docking tube.

"I just got banged up a bit," James reassured him, loosening his grip to rest his hand at her hip. "Doc needs to look at Kat, though. Blood's seeping through the medigel." Steve swept in on her other side, and they moved as quickly as they could back to the Normandy.

Once out of sight of the civilians, the men began to make short work of unfastening her armor. Carrying her half-dressed and bleeding through the ship was one thing. Doing it on the Citadel was another.

"Damn, no wonder you got hit. This is too heavy for you to be wearing," James said, struggling with her shoulder-guard.

"It's the lightest armor Shepard could find."

"Yeah, but there's the under-weave she has to wear so it doesn't chafe." The guard fell to the floor and James began to unzip the suit. "Too many layers. Kat's a hand-to-hand fighter."

"I'm right here," she said a little too quietly as she shrugged out of the sleeves. James slid them down her arms, but didn't let her out of it completely. Steve had removed her belt and weapons, passing them off to the nearest crewman to be taken down to the armory.

"Cortez?"

She didn't like the tone in James' voice. Or the way he was holding his hand over her wound. The two men exchanged a look that Kat couldn't quite read before they started moving towards the med bay. _Who dimmed the damn lights_, she thoughtbefore realizing that she was probably starting to feel the effects of blood loss. When she stumbled, James scooped her up with a grunt, ignoring his own pain.

"The medigel stuck everything together," James murmured, and she could hear the worry in his voice. "We can't get the rest of your armor off without ripping everything back open." She didn't say anything, instead leaning her head into his neck. Armor. Too much armor. But her forehead was tucked under his jaw, and Kat sighed against his skin. "Stay with me, Katherine," he rumbled in her ear.

"Just keep talking to me, Tiger," she managed to whisper, hoping he had heard. When he nuzzled the side of her head, she knew he had.

* * *

***Disclaimer* Bioware owns the rights to "Mass Effect."**

**Oh, come on now. You didn't think I was going to make it _easy_ for them, did you?**

**Also, I got a bug up my butt and wrote a one-shot, post-synthesis story entitled "Closure." I posted it last week and you can find it on my author page. There is much love for Mr. Vega in it, with a little Alenko twist, but be sure to grab a hanky.**


	10. You Just Know

**Chapter Ten: You Just Know**

Garrus loved nighttime on the ship. A peaceful break from the bustle that the waking hours always seemed to bring, with the soft hum of the Normandy's engines and quiet snippets of conversation between the crew members on third shift. Heather had assured them some light duty for the next few days, gathering intel and scanning planets for whatever resources they could gather for the inevitable final push against the Reapers.

It seemed as if a hundred different factions had coerced the Commander into running their errands. It had been hard for her to turn them down. Every lead would secure them more troops, better weapons, or supplies they would need for the Crucible. Every tiny piece would fit into that puzzle somehow. She would see to it.

He was so distracted by his thoughts that Garrus almost missed the hulking form of James Vega dozing in a chair near the med bay. The soldier's arms were folded across his chest, head down and eyes closed. Turians couldn't exactly tiptoe like humans, but Garrus tried his best to be quiet while his friend slept. When Garrus flicked the light switch in the kitchen, he heard the chair shift.

"Thought you went to bed hours ago, Jimmy," he said quietly, voice carrying across the empty room.

"Couldn't sleep." Garrus doubted it was the whole truth. The weariness was evident, from James' posture to the catch in his throat when he spoke. He was leaning forward now, elbows on his knees and face buried in his hands. How many nights had Garrus spent in that same position? How many had Heather, for that matter? Countless.

"Room too empty?" he suggested, reaching into the refrigerator for the dextro-fruit that he had made sure to pick up before leaving the Citadel. When he saw James nod, Garrus knew that it was more than just a passing fancy for the CO's sister.

"Chokwas won't let me in the med bay until morning. Some stupid shit about me keeping Kat awake when she needs to sleep. Like she thinks we've been going at it like fucking rabbits or something the past few weeks."

"Rabbits?"

"Animals back on Earth. They breed fast."

"Ah. Gotcha." He doubted that the doctor seriously thought that James and Kat had been intimate. Until that morning, there had been no outward signs that their relationship was anything beyond good friends and roommates. And if it was more...well, Garrus was pretty sure that Heather would've weaseled it out of EDI in the span of a heartbeat. But it was reassurance James wanted, and that was something Garrus could provide. "For what it's worth, the doc doesn't ever let anyone stay overnight in the med bay with patients. Kat just needs to rest and get her blood count to a level Chokwas is comfortable with. I"m sure she'll be released sometime tomorrow morning."

He saw James' shoulders relax and his mouth turn up into a relieved smile. Hoping his friend was satisfied, Garrus dimmed the kitchen light and made his way back to the elevator.

"Hey, Scars?" he heard after making it past the tables. Turning, he saw that James was standing, looking through the window into the dark med bay where Kat was sleeping. "When did you know? With the Commander?"

Garrus paused, understanding with perfect clarity what James was asking, and his heart skipped at the memory. "Omega," he replied quietly, the words flowing with ease. "After Cerberus pieced her back together. She was sent to recruit me for her new team, but I was bogged down by mercs. Took a rocket to the side of my head. Should've died. Anyone else probably would have. But she was there, holding me, talking to me, crying, begging me not to die. Giving me something to live for, even though she didn't realize it at the time. But when I first saw her running across the bridge to my position, it was like seeing a ghost. Heather had been dead for two years, but there she was, lined up in the cross-hairs of my rifle, picking off mercs. And that's..." Garrus sighed, his mandibles twitching happily. "That's when I knew."

* * *

The first thing she noticed when she woke was the pain. The past thirty-six hours had been a drug-induced blur, and Kat winced as the dull throb in her side pulsed with each breath she took. Tears stung the back of her eyes. She didn't want to open them and find herself alone in the med-bay again. But whatever had been propping her up from behind while she slept – in her own bed! - pressed just a tiny bit closer and an arm curled itself around her waist protectively. Without thinking, she tucked her arm under his and threaded their fingers together. She was rewarded with an affectionate squeeze to her hand.

"Doc left some pills for you," James rumbled. His breath was a whisper against her hair and she relaxed into him as much as she could.

"Are they going to knock me out again?"

"Probably."

"Half dose. I'd like to **remember** falling asleep with you the next time I wake up."

He chuckled, reluctantly peeling himself away from her to get the meds. Cool air filled the gaps where his body had been, and Kat shivered involuntarily. She finally managed to open her eyes, and noticed that the only light in the room came from the small lamp on the dresser. Slowly, she pushed herself into a sitting position, scooting around to face the mountain of muscle that sat on the edge of the bed next to her.

"Breakfast is on in a couple of hours if you want to stay up," he suggested, handing her a single pill and a sports bottle. Kat shook her head before swallowing the medicine. In protest, her stomach growled, bringing a grin to James' face. When he took her drink, he replaced it with a ration bar.

"So what's my official diagnosis?" she managed to ask between bites.

"Severe laceration. And a bunch of other medical junk that basically means nothing vital, but it will take about a week for the muscle to fully repair itself."

"Could've been worse if you hadn't been there to help me," she said, lowering her lashes. Kat's last coherent memory was of James carrying her to the med bay, and her most recent one was of waking up in his arms. It was the closest thing to real intimacy since the morning of his birthday, and she flushed at the thought of what might greet her on a day they were both whole and healthy.

"I did what I could," he confessed, eyes dropping to look at his hands. "Should've told the Council to piss off and taken you straight to Chokwas." Guilt washed over his face, and she reached out to cup his cheek in her hand.

"Damage was already done, James. Getting me to her faster wouldn't have changed that."

"But the blood. God, Kat, you were starting to bleed out. I've..." he struggled for words, his shoulders heaving as he drew a deep breath. "After what happened that morning..."

Kat couldn't say anything. She knew exactly what he meant, taking the risk to breach that last barrier between friends and lovers only to be flung into battle less than an hour later. If it had been James bleeding on the elevator floor, she'd have been scared to death. She wanted to say something funny, but Kat still hurt too much to risk laughing. Instead, she inched her way towards him, closing the gap that had formed when James had gotten up.

He didn't need any further incentive. When he kissed her, it wasn't the tentative press of his lips against hers. It was a day and a half of fear, eight days of confusion, three weeks of frustration, pouring into her. Gentle, yes, but there was an urgency behind it, as if he were daring fate to intervene again.

Without warning, the pain from her injury was replaced with a completely different ache. Kat whimpered when James pulled away, but he must have seen the need in her eyes because there wasn't a peep from him about whether or not he had hurt her. And the way he was looking at her...it was more than desire. Something she'd never seen, not even from the man she had married all those years ago, and Kat's heart pounded with the rush of emotion that suddenly flooded it.

"I couldn't sleep the other night," James confessed, pressing his forehead against hers and stroking the braid that had fallen across her shoulder. "While you were in the med bay." His knuckles brushed across the side of her breast as his hand slipped down the length of hair and Kat inhaled sharply at the touch. Only a tee shirt separated their flesh, and she found herself cursing it. His eyes darkened at her response, and James repeated the motion while trailing kisses across her jaw.

"So many things I want to do with you," he breathed huskily into her ear. His hand skimmed down her side, lightly touching her abdomen, tickling the edges of her ribs, splaying his hand around her waist. Sliding it under her shirt and reversing the direction it had been traveling seconds before. But he stopped at his first touch of the tape holding the gauze over her wound.

* * *

"I can't," he breathed, face in her neck and fingers twitching on Kat's ribs. God, he wanted to, but it was a chance that James couldn't take. Even if they were careful...slow...gentle... There was too much risk of opening the wound.

But she had come alive at his touch. Eyes dilated with need. Pulse racing under his lips at her throat. If James had ever doubted that Kat wanted him as badly as he wanted her, those fears had been laid to rest.

James felt her fingertips brush through his hair, along the edge of his mohawk. Soothing. Accepting. His arm slid around her waist as he repositioned himself behind her, and he played with the soft skin on Kat's belly as she leaned back against him.

A million thoughts ran though his head, chief of which being his conversation with Garrus the night before. About how you just **know** once you've reached that point of no return with someone. For James, it started with that tiny flicker of a kiss on the Citadel. But it paled next to how terrified he was of losing Kat when he carried her into the med bay.

She had become so much more than a roommate the past few weeks. Joining in the weekly poker games with the other crew members. Orchestrating the birthday party that had turned a tragedy into a celebration. Becoming the voice he heard when the right tunes were played on his guitar.

Staying up with him when the nightmares about Fehl hit. There had been three since they had started bunking together. The first time they stayed up, hitting the weights before morning chow was called. The second time, she put in a vid to put him in a better mood, and they'd fallen asleep halfway through it. The third time, the night before Tuchanka, when he woke from the nightmare into the dream of having her in his arms.

"They're about Fehl," he whispered, knowing Kat would understand that he meant the nightmares. He'd mentioned the attack before, but only as something he didn't want to talk about.

"I know," she replied quietly, and those simple words broke him. James told her about the mission that had taken him to the planet. About the people in the colony. The men in his squad. About his C.O. Every gory detail from beginning to end. And she didn't flinch. Didn't waver. Just lay there while he talked, taking his hand and holding it close. Kissing his fingertips.

He'd given the Commander a basic rundown on the Collector attack, but Kat had just heard it all. Didn't judge or give some militant "it was the right thing" bullshit. Just listened, letting him purge the memories. The emotions. Holding his hand. Soaking in the moment that was uniquely **theirs**.

Kat shifted against him as he stifled a yawn, so James decided to lay them both back down. As an after thought, he grabbed his omni-tool and punched in a quick message for Steve, knowing their friend would check it as soon as he got up. One more quick set of security commands to allow him entry to the room while they slept, and breakfast would be waiting when they got up.

_Yeah, Scars_, he thought silently to his friend as he settled in next to Kat. _That moment. It's right now._

* * *

****Disclaimer** Bioware owns the rights to Mass Effect.**

**A/N: I'm not entirely sure how soon we'll see Kat & James again, folks. I have the next chapter started, but my muse is pushing me to work on "Ferelden Sunset" at the moment and life in general has kept me pretty busy, too. Don't worry too much...this story is mapped out in my head and I'll get back to it as soon as the Amell family has had some time to speak their piece for a few weeks.**


	11. The Passing of Time

**Chapter Eleven: The Passing of Time**

Heather stared into the darkness of space from the Observation Deck, leaning against the window with a cup of coffee cradled in her hands. It had been a relatively quiet week on the Normandy, with everyone needing the much needed break in routine after the disaster on the Citadel. It was good to have Kaidan back, even better that they were both able to walk away from the incident with Udina, and they had spent more than a few hours in that very room patching up old wounds.

It had been a good use of the time it took flitting from system to system picking up odds and ends that would help in their final push against the Reapers. Playing errand-girl had never been her idea of a good time, but it beat being forced into playing the diplomat regardless of how well everyone told her she was at it. Now the crew was back on track to building the intergalactic fleet, heading to the Perseus Veil to investigate yet **another** problem between the Geth and the Quarians.

She didn't turn when the door hissed open. The light step that belonged to Tali was a welcome sound to her ears, and Heather found herself smiling when the newly-minted Admiral came to stand on the other side of the window.

"Garrus said I might find you here."

"Just enjoying the last few bits of quiet before we go back into the shitstorm."

"Yeah. I wish we could have left the Geth alone. At least until after the Reapers are taken care of."

Shepard was surprised at Tali's statement, and looked up at her friend over the mug of coffee as she took a sip. "Don't **you** want your home world back?" she asked.

"Of course I do. But what good will it be to any of us if there's nothing to go back to? We made a lot of headway towards peace through my discussions with Legion, and now the fleet is attacking the Geth. This assault is insane. We've got bigger...what's that phrase you use?"

"Bigger fish to fry. Yeah." The two women stood in silence for a few moments, returning their attention to the passing stars as they slipped through the Perseus Veil. It was new territory for Heather, and she guessed it was for Tali, as well.

"So," Tali said finally. "You and Garrus." Heather chuckled, a flush coming to her cheeks at the memory of how much time she and the turian had spent together in her quarters the past few days. "I'm guessing it's moved past the 'blowing off steam' stage."

"I think we were beyond that before we even got to it, to be honest," admitted Heather. "We both changed so much after I … died," she said, glancing into the black and shuddering. "I think finding each other helped us find ourselves again. I know I wouldn't have made it this far without him to keep me sane."

"'Sane' isn't a term I would use to describe either of you," Tali chuckled.

"True enough."

* * *

"This doesn't feel right."

Kat sighed and leaned against James as they watched Kaidan pace the short length of the shuttle. They had heard him say those exact words dozens of times over the past few days as they traipsed back and forth across the galaxy on a hunt for the mysterious Leviathan. But Heather had ordered the three of them, along with Steve and EDI, to look into the matter while she took care of the mess with the Quarians and the Geth.

"I believe that splitting the team was your idea in the first place, Major," Cortez quipped from the pilot's seat. "Besides, we heard from Shepard hours ago."

"Yeah. United two more warring species **and** single-handedly took down a Reaper," added James. "I can't wait to see the vids of **that**."

"And it's not like she's just sitting around waiting for us to come back. Hackett's sending her to Eden Prime to get ahold of some Prothean artifact that Cerberus is after."

"Ha! I bet the Doc's going to have a field day with that."

"You have no idea," Kaidan grumbled, putting an end to his pacing as he sat on Kat's other side. She didn't miss the worried look that Steve had given him, and wordlessly arched an eyebrow at her friend. A faint blush tinted his cheeks, but he turned back to his instrument panel before she had a chance to get an answer from him.

She and James had suspected that the two men had become close even before they were all sent on the Leviathan mission together. It wasn't much of a surprise, really. Emotional bonds and romances had a tendency to crop up more frequently during times of war, and Kat could easily name off a half dozen active pairings on the Normandy aside from Heather's and her own. And if the Major could manage to heal that last tiny piece of Steve's broken heart, well, kudos for him.

"Speaking of the Doc," James whispered into her ear as he skimmed a finger along her arm, "Remind me to thank her when we get back for this hot new armor she let you borrow."

"Hands off the negotiator, Vega," Kaidan warned, a teasing tone in his voice. In playful defiance, the lieutenant put his hands in his lap then leaned over to press a gentle kiss to the side of Kat's neck. A shiver of energy shot up her spine at the touch. Alenko raised an eyebrow and schooled the grin that was tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Might as well ask the Reapers to take an extended vacation in deep space," Steve quipped when he glanced back. "They've been itching to have a go at each other for nearly two months."

Kat blushed furiously as Kaidan chuckled and James pulled away to glare at their friend. While it was common knowledge on the Normandy that the two of them were an item, very few knew that between missions, injuries and Heather's meddling, they hadn't yet made that final physical connection. But there was a certain comfort that Kat found sleeping next to James at night, and it settled her mind from the fear that it was simple attraction that brought them together.

She knew that the open flirtation on the shuttle was his way of suppressing his worry about the upcoming confrontation with Leviathan. Kat was no Commander Shepard, but the creature seemed to recognize the similarities between the two sisters. They may have needed Kaidan's Alliance rank and Spectre status to get them through security protocols, but it was the Shepard name that caused people to take notice. With EDI and James added to the mix, the four of them were a formidable team. Heather had certainly chosen well for this mission.

"We're close enough to launch a probe," said Steve, pulling Kat from her thoughts. She gave a quick nod to Kaidan and EDI, then reached for James' hands. He threaded their fingers together and silently they sat, waiting for whatever the Reaper-killing beast had in store for them.

* * *

Heather Shepard sat at the head of the conference desk, elbows on the table and head buried in her hands. It had been a wild 36 hours, first with finding a living Prothean, then dealing with all of the issues that having him on board the Normandy had brought. Javik was nothing like what any of them had been expecting, and soothing Liara's ruffled feathers had been its own challenge. But Heather actually **liked** the grouchy bastard, and could sympathize a bit with him after having undergone her own unique reawakening a year past.

She had caught a scant two hours of rest after reading Kaidan's report on the Leviathan and it was absolutely nothing like she had been expecting. The sentient race of aquatic giants had actually **created** the Reapers, and she had unknowingly sent the team right to them. That it hadn't turned out worse spoke volumes to their competency, but the risk that Kat had taken to get the information and shaky alliance they needed almost wasn't worth it. The four of them had briefed her again as soon as they arrived, and she had dismissed all but her sister from the room.

Once the others were out of sight, Heather practically jumped from her seat to pull Kat into a bone-crushing hug. The younger Shepard returned it just as fiercely, and the barrier that had split the women since Kat's arrival crumbled. There were no tears, just overwhelming relief and understanding.

"James sent me a message separate from Kaidan's," she finally said. "He was scared. More than when you got hurt on the Citadel."

"The Leviathan, it...got in my head. Tried to break me." Her voice was low, a sure sign of how utterly exhausted she was. Heather pulled away and held Kat by the shoulders at arm's length, taking stock of her sister's appearance. There were dark circles under her eyes, and bits of hair had come loose from the braid to hang limply around her face. She hadn't even bothered to take off her armor, but then again, neither had James or Kaidan. The scents of eezo and seawater clung to her, an oddly refreshing combination if it hadn't been associated with the danger she had been in.

Heather blinked, and for the briefest moment she could see Kat as she had been years ago back on Earth. A bone-weary street urchin, curled up on a cot in the temple they had found as temporary shelter. Katherine hadn't known it at the time, but her older sister would be leaving for basic training the next morning, and hadn't the heart to say goodbye. So she watched, and prayed, and hoped that the monks would treat her well.

"I'm proud of you," she finally whispered, shaking the memory from her head.

"You would have done the same thing," Kat replied.

"I don't mean with the mission."

"But you...I...oh, hell. I don't know how you do it."

"I'm only as good as my team," Heather confessed, a grin playing at the side of her lips. "And I have a **damn** good team."

"I'm glad I'm here. It's crazy. Overwhelming, really. But I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now."

"Oh, I bet that has less to do with me, and more with a certain tattooed marine."

Kat grinned sheepishly, her eyes narrowed to happy but tired slits as she did so. The two had stopped hiding their relationship from Heather while the younger sister recovered from the injuries she'd received at the Citadel, but if the Commander had to be honest, they seemed to be a good fit. They complimented each other both on and off the battlefield, much in the way that she and Garrus did. It was a bitter pill to swallow when that realization finally dawned on her, but Heather had managed to keep her thoughts to herself.

"He's a good man," Kat admitted.

"I know," agreed Heather, pulling her sister into another hug. "You two are off-duty while I take care of something for a friend. I'll be back from Omega in a couple of days."

The Commander hated long good-byes, and watched wistfully as Katherine left the conference room. The war had created so much chaos, had thrown her across the galaxy to take care of everyone else's problems in order to unite them against the Reapers. She had lost so many friends, and feared losing all the others. But it had given her Garrus, her one solid constant through all the years of fighting the sentient machines. And now it seemed that James and Kat had forged that same bond.

She smiled as the weight of worry finally lifted from her shoulders.

* * *

****Disclaimer** I can claim Kat. Bioware still has everything else.**

**A/N: Thanks to all of you who are still reading/commenting/following. This chapter is more of an "intermission" to cover some time that needed to pass without picking over the details of the missions from the ME3 game-play. (Thus, the generic and unoriginal chapter title.) More to come in a few weeks. Until then, please feel free to browse through my other stories. I've been a busy author with a half-dozen little muses whispering in my ear.**


	12. Always With You

****NSFW! (Admit it, you've been waiting to see this one.) NSFW!****

**Chapter Twelve: Always With You**

It had been a long, quiet night after the Leviathan team returned to the Normandy. A hot shower, a hot meal, and ten hours of uninterrupted sleep had come as an unexpected blessing for James, and he savored those first moments of waking with Kat curled up next to him. He left her in the mess hall with Liara before heading to bed, and passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. That she had been able to join him without setting off every mental alarm he possessed spoke volumes about their comfort and compatibility with one another.

Propping himself up on one elbow, James looked down at her while she slept. The traces of worry and exhaustion had melted away, and a lock of hair had fallen across Kat's cheek. Gently, he tucked it back behind her ear and pressed his lips to her temple. Deciding it was better to let her rest while she could, he moved to get out of bed, but before he could rise, James felt her hand wrap around his wrist.

"Don't leave," she whispered, voice husky with sleep. His gaze fell on her face again, and her eyes were dark with desire. In a flash, he returned to the bed, Kat's head cradled in his hands and his mouth hovering near her ear.

"Dios mi," he managed to breathe out as her arms wrapped themselves around his neck. "Never, mi corazón. Never."

James took his time to kiss her. Slow, sensual, bone-meltingly thorough, and Kat matched his pace with perfect accuracy. Self-control had never been in his arsenal, but for her he would use it. She was his lifeline. The future he was fighting for. And if he couldn't tell her with words, James knew he could find other ways to show her just how serious he was about her.

Moving one hand down to her hip, he lifted her slightly and rolled across the bed to shift her above him. James felt her feather-light kisses along his neck, trailing up to his ear before she gently nipped at his lobe and traced her tongue across the shell. He couldn't stop the groan from escaping any more than he could resist lifting his groin in response. Kat certainly wasn't going to make an easy time of taking it slow, but he was determined not to rush.

She began to sit up, running her hands down his bare chest before grabbing the hem of her shirt and lifting it. James' hands shot out, stopping her before he saw more than the slim lines of her abdomen, but skimmed his fingers underneath along her ribs. "We have the time, Katherine," he pleaded, brushing the pad of his thumb over the light scar she had received a few weeks prior. "Let's make use of it."

Her expression softened as she reached up to brush her fingers along his jaw, then leaned back in to resume the trail her lips had been making across his neck. Slowly, she moved down across his chest, teasing his nipples and lightly tracing the lines of his tattoo with her nails. Further down, to his belly. Then further, her tongue dipping into his naval. James' breath caught in his throat. Was she going to...

But, no. She didn't. Her mouth veered to his right hip, nibbling at the bone, causing him to buck and squirm at the unexpected jolt of pleasure it caused. His member throbbed inside of his shorts, begging to be touched, but Kat skirted around it as if she knew that by giving attention to it, James would lose all semblance of self-control. He bit back a groan, which resounded as growl deep and low as it rumbled through his chest. As she slowly made her way back towards his head, he saw the corners of her lips twitching and he knew that he was gone, completely and utterly head-over-heels for her.

In a rush of impatience, James lifted Kat into his lap as he pulled himself to a sitting position, tangling a fist in her hair and ravaging her mouth. Gently, he began to lean her back, allowing his lips to follow the same path on her that she had taken on him. James covered one breast with his hand, kneading and squeezing while he captured the pebbled nub on her other between his teeth. When he pulled away, James blew lightly over the damp spot on her shirt, eliciting a squeal of anticipation from Kat. Chuckling, he continued to move down, lapping at her belly button, biting her hips, both of which caused her to arch herself towards him.

James could feel the heat radiating from her core. Could smell her need for him. It was heavy and intoxicating, and he simply couldn't resist running his tongue across her over the thin fabric of her panties. He wanted a taste. Just the tiniest little taste of her...

Katherine bit her lip as James began to slide the undies down her legs, pressing kisses to the insides of her thighs as he did so. He hovered over her sex, breathing onto it and teasing her sensitive clit with one...two...three quick licks while she keened with building desire. As his mouth began to move up her torso, he ran his thumb across her opening, wetting it before continuing where his tongue had left off. By the time he had lifted the shirt over her head to suckle on the breast he had ignored on his last pass, Kat was a writhing mess of sweat and skin beneath him.

He had nearly forgotten about his own state of dress until he felt her feet deftly tugging at his shorts since he was too tall for her to reach them with her hands. James chuckled, moving to assist in her efforts before returning his full attention to her face. He ached to be inside of her, but he wanted to be certain she knew he was in this for the long haul. Kat's eyes danced with need and something else that he dared to believe was mirrored in his own expression.

"Hacerme el amor, Jaime," she pleaded in a gathered breath. "Please?"

"Always, mi corazón," replied James, pressing his lips fiercely against Kat's as he sat them both back up. "Te amare siempre."

Terrified of hurting her, he wanted Kat to take him at her own pace. As she straddled his hips, James buried his face in her neck, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into her flesh when the first touch of her folds enveloped the head of his shaft. She eased herself onto him a mere inch at a time, rising, then taking one more. It was almost painful how tight she was around him, but with each rise and fall she accommodated him until finally he was fully sheathed and had begun to slowly move his own hips.

Time slowed. Or sped up. James couldn't tell for sure. He moved with Kat in a rhythm that nobody else had ever come close to touching. They shifted seamlessly to having James kneeling over her, hands at her waist with her ass off the bed while her shoulders supported her weight. And then he was down with her, torsos sliding together, mouths colliding in heated and desperate kisses. Tension built in them both, and James was desperate to hold on until he knew for certain that she had reached climax.

He read the signs the moment Kat began to peak. The catch in her breath. Pupils dilating to pinpoints. And the guttural scream as she clutched him around the shoulders when the first tremor began. It was the most intense experience James had ever encountered. He clung to Katherine, riding the waves and pumping against her walls before his cries joined her own and he released himself deep within her.

He couldn't see. He couldn't breathe. For seconds afterward, there was just a blissful _completeness_ that consumed the both of them in the aftermath of their lovemaking. But it was James who managed to move first, lifting himself the barest of inches to look upon the woman he would never tire of seeing. Her brown eyes danced as Kat lifted a hand and cupped his cheek.

"Siempre, mi amor?" she asked. He absolutely adored that she used Spanish for pillow talk.

"Always, Katherine," James confirmed. "Si esta guerra me mata, me voy a morir amándote."

Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes at his words, and he wiped them away. They knew the risks. They knew the reality. And still they chose to be together through it all. James planned to cherish every moment with Kat. No regrets.

_If this war kills me, I will die loving you_, he had told her. But the whole truth was that he would love her until he died, even if they survived the Reapers.

* * *

Garrus couldn't sleep worth a damn. Heather had been gone more than the two days she had been anticipating, and there hadn't been a peep from Omega the entire time. She always kept in touch. Always patched him through on the missions he didn't accompany her on. And this one shouldn't have been any different.

Damn Aria and her promises. She was the worst crime boss of them all, manipulating Heather into helping take back the station in return for supplies and soldiers for the war. Not that they didn't need what she offered. And Omega certainly needed to be taken out of Cerberus hands. But still...damn Aria.

Maybe a shower would help. A long hot soak to relax his body and wash away some of the worry. Rolling out of bed...Heather's bed...**their** bed...Garrus made his way through the cabin towards the wash room. He slept nude...hell, they **both** did...so there was no worry about littering the floor with his clothes. His talons clicked on the metal floor, echoing strangely as he entered the bath.

He had barely closed the door to the shower and turned on the water when he heard her come into the cabin. It wouldn't have been anyone else. Couldn't have been. Nobody else would dare without announcing themselves first. Not unless EDI had been hacked...

"That you?" he ventured, knowing that if it had truly been someone else, there wouldn't be a response.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice heavy with weariness and tinted with grief.

"Do you need me to..." Garrus started to ask, troubled by her tone.

"No, stay there. I'll be in as soon as I dump my stuff down the chute."

"I never got a message that you were returning," he ventured. Maybe she had just wanted to sneak on board and go straight to bed. It's what he probably would have done.

"I told EDI not to alert anyone. Not you. Not Hackett. I know everyone would have questions and I just..." she paused just long enough to open the door, then continued once she was under the stream of water next to him. "I wanted to see you first. To touch you. To know that you're still here. With me."

For a moment, Garrus was speechless. What in the name of every possible deity had happened on Omega that had caused her to return home in such a state? A flash of light on the mirror caught his eye as he completed the thought, and he spun Heather around with her back to his chest as they looked into it together.

The sight took them both by surprise. There had been vids and holos of the two of them everywhere in the galaxy, not as a couple, but as battlefield comrades. Side-by-side, armed and armored. But they'd never seen how they looked together as a romantic pair. They were different, but they fit. Her soft, pale flesh against his pebbled leathery skin. Her golden brown eyes locked with his blues. Both well-honed and scarred soldiers of their respective species. Garrus would never again understand why anyone could consider them mis-matched. He had never seen a sight so beautiful in his life.

"I'm here," he told her. "With you." As a point of emphasis, he leaned in to nuzzle the side of her neck. Not a sign of sexual intent, but rather one of comfort. Garrus allowed his subharmonics to rumble a bit, hoping to console whatever was troubling his lover. When she finally broke his gaze in the mirror, Heather turned into him and he held her against his chest. "What happened on Omega, Heather?"

"We took the station back..." she replied, leaving it open-ended as she searched for words. After a moment, Garrus had to prompt her to continue.

"And?"

"And the cost was more than Aria thought she'd ever have to pay."

Garrus frantically tried to remember if there was anything Aria held more dear than Omega itself. Not resources. Not eezo. Not even her gangs...

"Oh. Oh, shit!" he exclaimed softly as the thought settled. "Nyreen?"

"Yes," came her muffled response.

And as the water pelted them from the shower above, Garrus held his lover..._no, my** mate**_ he insisted...while she finally allowed herself to mourn the casualties of war.

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***Disclaimer* You know the drill. Bioware. Blah blah blah.**

**A/N: So, maybe this should've been just Kat and James. Or maybe just Shepard & Vakarian. But both couples are at a turning point in their relationships, and I felt both needed to be heard in this chapter. Also, my Spanish is rusty. If it's screwed up, blame Google Translate. Oh! And read my new story, "Rallying Point" featuring Major Coats. And... and... and... Thank you, as always, for the great response. I love you guys.**


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